Sheena and Felicity stood not more than a meter behind her.

How had they been so silent? Even with bare feet?

Both had that weirdly vacuous stare. Weirder, both girls were naked. And both, to Anna’s horror, had the visible swellings of gill development along both sides of their throats. Felicity’s ended in red slits above her collarbone. Sheena’s swellings didn’t look too far behind.

“What do you want?”

“My throat is sore.” Sheena said, stepping forward.

“It’s the algae.” Anna couldn’t help it. She backed up a step, her heart starting to pound. “Get away from me. You’re not human. You’re . . . things. Aliens.”

“My throat hurts,” Sheena insisted, stepping closer. “Help me.”

Anna—fear turning her stomach runny—backed into the counter. She had to get past the girls. Get down to the meeting. Tell the rest what she’d found. But, after all, these were just girls, right? And, in this case, unlike poor Bill Martin, she understood the threat.

She nerved that old bitter snap into her voice. “You’re going to let me pass. Time’s come that the rest know what you are.”

Felicity actually seemed to wilt, her right hand behind her back. Given the green tinge in her left hand, maybe she was embarrassed by her right? Was it further along in the transition?

“You didn’t hear that, did you?” Felicity asked. “If you did, you’d know the message in the music.”

“What music?”

“The music our friends are singing in the Underwater Bay. It’s been changing ever since we digested Bryan and Tobi. Growing happier. It’s almost time. Want to hear the music?”

A shiver ran up Anna’s back when Felicity started humming the tune to “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” Like the nursery rhyme was some innocent non sequitur given the fear she suddenly felt.

“Sheena, make way,” Anna declared as she started forward.

At the last instant, Sheena stepped aside, her large blue eyes fixed on Anna’s. Something about the girl—the incongruity of her red hair, the green tinge to her pale skin, and the swollen throat—to Anna it reeked of wrongness.

“What about Toni?” Sheena demanded as Anna made two steps, Felicity still humming that damn song, blocked her way.

Anna glanced back, seeing that Sheena had stepped over to stare into the clear plastic. Even as Anna paused, Sheena had reached out, was trying to pull the isolation tent from the countertop. The muscles swelled in the girl’s arms, and incredibly, the heavy plastic tent moved. It stopped when the tube that evacuated air to the incinerator pulled tight.

“Hey!” Anna barked. “Leave that alone! Get your little alien fingers . . .” She stopped short. Not only should the isolation tent have been too heavy for seven-year-old Sheena to pull, but, damn, Sheena’s fingers were leaf green.